If you weren’t already standing when Lainey Wilson strutted onto the Bridgestone Arena stage at the 59th Annual Country Music Association Awards on November 20, 2025, you sure as hell were thirty seconds later.

Dressed head-to-toe in a custom bell-bottomed crimson jumpsuit that looked like it was stitched together from sunset and pure attitude, the 2025 Entertainer of the Year kicked off country music’s biggest night with a ten-minute, nine-song mashup so ferocious, so perfectly country, and so downright joyful that it instantly entered CMA legend. By the time the final chord of Keith Urban’s “Where the Blacktop Ends” rang out, the entire arena was on its feet, screaming like it was the last night of the county fair and the Ferris wheel was on fire.

This wasn’t an opening act. This was a coronation.

The Spark That Lit the Fuse

The house lights dropped. A single spotlight hit the Louisiana queen dead center. Without a word, she grabbed her bedazzled microphone, cracked a grin that could power half of Tennessee, and launched straight into the galloping riff of Chris Stapleton’s “White Horse” like she’d been singing it in honky-tonks since she was sixteen (which, let’s be honest, she probably has).

Standing beside her was guitarist extraordinaire Charlie Worsham, trading licks and harmonies with the kind of effortless chemistry that makes you believe in musical soulmates. The crowd hadn’t even found their seats yet and they were already hollering the chorus back at her. Thirty seconds in and the tone was set: tonight was going to be a celebration of country music in its purest, rowdiest, most heart-on-sleeve form.

From Bell Bottoms to Barn-Burners

Without pausing for breath, Wilson slid seamlessly into the greasy groove of Brooks & Dunn’s “Hillbilly Deluxe,” hips swaying like she was dancing on the sawdust floor of a Louisiana roadhouse. The camera cut to Ronnie Dunn in the front row, grinning ear-to-ear and singing every word. If that didn’t give you goosebumps, check your pulse.

Then, just when you thought the energy couldn’t climb higher, Ella Langley and Riley Green exploded onto the stage for their smash duet “you look like you love me.” The chemistry between the three was pure lightning in a mason jar, Langley’s smoky rasp wrapping around Wilson’s bell-bottom belt buckle of a voice while Green leaned into the mic with that devil-may-care grin. The arena lost its ever-loving mind. Phones shot up like a forest of light-up cowboy hats.

Honky-Tonk Heroine Mode: Activated

Lainey wasn’t here to play nice.

She grabbed the spirit of Gretchen Wilson by the horns and tore into “Redneck Woman” with a ferocity that would’ve made Gretchen herself stand up and cheer (and she did, cameras caught her screaming along from the audience). Beer cups flew into the air. Somewhere in the balcony, a woman in a leopard-print cowboy hat started crowd-surfing.

From there, Lainey did something nobody saw coming. The lights dimmed to a single blue wash, and she eased into the opening piano notes of Lady A’s “Need You Now.” The entire arena went hushed, thousands of voices joining her on the chorus in a moment so tender you could hear hearts cracking open from Memphis to Mobile. It was the emotional exhale after the wildfire, and it was perfect.

But Lainey Wilson doesn’t do slow for long.

One stomp of her rhinestone boot and Miranda Lambert’s “Gunpowder and Lead” detonated like a shotgun blast. The pyrotechnics kicked in (literal flames shooting twenty feet into the air) while Lainey prowled the stage like a country Bonnie Parker ready to take on the world. Grown men were screaming. Grown women were screaming louder.

The Collaborations That Broke the Internet

Just when you thought your cardiovascular system couldn’t take any more, Little Big Town glided onstage in matching black and gold for a spine-chilling rendition of “Girl Crush.” Karen Fairchild and Lainey traded verses like they’d been singing together in church choirs since kindergarten, their voices intertwining in that aching, slow-burn harmony that makes the song an instant classic every single time it’s performed. Jimi Westbrook and Kimberly Schlapman added heavenly backgrounds while Phillip Sweet laid down a groove you could feel in your ribcage.

The audience hadn’t even finished wiping away tears when the opening guitar lick of Keith Urban’s “Where the Blacktop Ends” ripped through the arena. And there he was, Keith Urban himself, sprinting across the stage with that signature grin and a double-neck guitar, launching into the song like a man half his age.

What followed was three minutes of pure, unadulterated country joy. Lainey and Keith traded verses, danced like nobody was watching, and turned the CMA stage into the world’s biggest back-road party. When they hit the final chorus, every artist in the front three rows (Jelly Roll, Morgan Wallen, Ashley McBryde, Luke Combs, Kelsea Ballerini, you name it) was on their feet, arms around each other, singing at the top of their lungs.

The Moment Everyone Will Talk About for Years

As the final note rang out and the confetti cannons exploded in a storm of red, white, and blue, Lainey grabbed the mic one last time.

“Y’all, this is for every kid with a dream bigger than their hometown,” she shouted, voice cracking with genuine emotion. “Country music saved my life, and tonight we’re celebrating every single person who ever turned it up loud enough to drown out the doubters. This one’s for y’all!”

The roar that followed shook the foundations of Bridgestone Arena. It wasn’t just applause. It was communion.

Why This Performance Will Be Remembered Forever

Let’s be clear: country music has seen legendary CMA openings before. Garth Brooks dangling from the rafters. Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” fairytale. Beyoncé bringing Nashville to church with the Chicks. But what Lainey Wilson did tonight was different. This wasn’t about spectacle for spectacle’s sake. This was a love letter to country music itself, every era, every style, every misfit who ever found home in a three-chord song.

She honored the outlaws and the heartbreak queens, the party starters and the porch-light balladeers. She reminded 20,000 people in that arena (and millions watching at home) why we fell in love with this music in the first place. And she did it all while proving, once again, that she’s not just the future of country music.

She’s the right now.

As the camera panned across the audience during the commercial break, you could see it on every face: pure, unfiltered joy. Chris Stapleton wiping his eyes. Miranda Lambert screaming like a teenager. Even hardened industry vets who’ve seen every trick in the book were slack-jawed.

Lainey Wilson didn’t just open the 2025 CMA Awards.

She reminded an entire genre what it feels like to be alive.

And somewhere in a small town in Louisiana tonight, a kid with bell-bottom dreams and a pawn-shop guitar just decided they’re never giving up.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the power of country music.

And nobody, nobody, is wielding it right now quite like Lainey Wilson.